THE NIGHTMARE WITHIN: Chapter 1

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Kevin hesitated to open his eyes.  When he did, he took in his bedroom through squinting eyes, expecting to see his mom next to his bed, as if she had woken him.

His room was empty.

He felt violated and somehow cut off from his family.  The full moon was high in the sky, a bright blue disc painting everything it touched with its cool glow.  An ink spot of murky shadow first constricted, then dilated, near his dresser in the corner of the room.  He strained against his body, against some unknown force that held him motionless.  He could control his eyes, but was too afraid to close them, and yet he didn't want to see what was lurking in the corner, either.  His heart pounded and the harder he struggled to move an arm, or a mere finger or toe, the more adrenaline churned through his system.  He was paralyzed, undeniably, maddeningly paralyzed.  His breath shuttered through his lungs as he struggled against blacking out.

The shadow shifted in front of his dresser and seemed to absorb the profuse moonlight.  That was when Kevin smelled a nauseating and all-too-familiar smell.  Dog shit in a baker's oven.  The septic ooze of a backed up sewer.  The kind of smell that lingers even under held breath.  Mr. Freakshow.

The Freak hadn't disturbed his sleep since Maury transmuted the dream from his mind almost a week ago.  This time he didn't bother with a disguise for his visit.  During Kevin's countless nightmares the monster's appearance would always change, but what he now saw was without a doubt his full-blown freak self.  Knuckles as big as a man's kneecaps, shoulders hunched so his hands nearly touched the floor.  Ratty long black hair dripping grease and carrying debris that looked like chicken bones.  A network of crisscrossing gray scars covering his forearms.

"Hello, Kevin," Mr. Freakshow whispered.  "It's been so long.  We need to catch up like old friends.  What you and your mom did wasn't very nice, so rudely removing me from your mind like that.  But things are better now.  I didn't understand at first, but things are so much better than just roosting up in your little kid head.  The world is so much larger, and a lot less limiting, and Dr. Bennett, my so-called keeper, is a blithering idiot."

Mr. Freakshow filled the window.  The moonlight now shied away from him, leaving his body surrounded by gravid blackness.  Kevin still couldn't move.  Tears dribbled down his cheeks and left cool trails in their wake.

"It's not too awful.  You see, I absorb the knowledge of those around me.  They leak information like your daddy's blood pouring from his gut.  And these," Mr. Freakshow said, showing him a full view of his whip-scarred forearms, "I no longer have to worry about.  Ever since I was released from you, boy, you've no longer been able to torment me.  No longer can you fight me, shackle me, lash out at me with your hatred for me.  Every time you would close your eyes and willfully oppose me, you would whip me like some wayward animal.  Times have changed.  And I will have my revenge."

Kevin closed his eyes, squeezed away his tears and tried to wake up from this nightmare.

"Oh, Kevin, you can't wake up.  You're already awake.  Well, almost.  More like, halfway awake.  That's why you can't move.  When you fall asleep your body is paralyzed to prevent you from harming your poor fragile body."

No…  Kevin fought as hard as he could to move a single muscle.  Sweat dotted his brow from his effort.

"You can see me, yes, but I remain in my confining cage, but that won't last--it won't last another twenty-four hours.  I'm just visiting to let you in on a little secret.  Do you want to know my little secret, and hold it dear and close to your heart?  You have to promise not to tell anyone.  Things can get messy if you do.  Your mom is a beautiful woman.  It wouldn't take much for me to want to taste her flesh, to wipe away the pooling blood from her exposed bones, to collect her naked skull to mount on my throne.  Her skull would ideally accent the end of my armrest, her empty eye sockets unblinking and glorious.  Your grammy, she's a whole different story, I'm afraid.  I would have to prod and probe.  Gnaw some of her gamy flesh, pull off her scalp like a swim cap, you know, to find that inner beauty of which you humans always speak.  That might take more time, and she might suffer, that poor old blind bitch, and you know I would give you a front row seat for the whole spectacle.